Magis
by Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
Summary: In which James was more than just a Potter, Snape cared a little more, Remus was a tad braver and the Dursleys were a bit crueller. Where Harry never noticed the line dividing light and dark and later found that the Wizarding Nations was merely a small section of the Magical World. Loosely follows books (canon). Creature!fic, Harem!fic. Harry/Draco/Tom/Cedric/Charlie/Blaise.
1. Prologue

**A/N **Hello :0

I decided to put this up because its been sitting in my folders for at least a year now, gathering dust and lookin' pretty, so I figured if I posted it up maybe someone would like to read it and I'd gain some pressing motivation for writing.

I'm going to tell you straight out. This is going to be a "Harry get's himself a male harem fic, yes they are going to do it with one another" fic. The joy :D

My policies go, if you don't like, don't read. Otherwise, welcome fellow slash fans~

It's also a creature fic, and that is going to play quite a large part in the latter half, probably.

Basically, I've just written a fic that I'm completely and utterly, just enjoying myself with ahahaahahahah...hah

A lot of things happen in this chapter, some of which will not be addressed until later chapters.

It is, for all means and purposes, a very vague introduction and I hope you chose to follow the story.

* * *

**~Prologue – The Boy Who Lived**

Harry Potter was a boy a tad more mature than others of his delicate, impressionable age of 5. He had quickly learnt that, more often than not it was better to keep quiet and stay unnoticed rather than shout and draw attention, and also that his life was not the best. His aunt and uncle weren't very fond of him, neither was his cousin for that fact, unless he showed affection through hurtful punches. Then again he had already accepted that while his life wasn't getting better it always had potential to get worse. That's why he was working on a list of rules that would make them happy, not that he wanted anything more, Vernon had told him many times that he should be grateful for the roof over his head and the clothes on his back. He was, even if he slept in a tiny cupboard with looming spider webs and dressed in his cousin's over-sized hand-me-downs.

Currently though, Harry was home, alone, watching a worn looking man in a tattered coat pace back and forth in front of his house. He hadn't seemed to notice the small boy peeking from between the curtains, but then again he had been trapped in his own thoughts for the past hour. Harry wondered if he was lost or maybe in need of some help. Either way having a man pacing out on the part of the pavement was not normal here on Privet Drive, and if the Dursleys came home to such a sight he might be blamed and miss out on dinner... again. Building up his courage Harry left his post by the window and silently walked over to the door, unlocking several heavy duty locks and tentatively pushing it open. The man shot to attention instantly, his shocked grey eyes catching Harry's equally surprised green ones. Harry could only stare in wonder at how familiar they looked, they were the ones the mirror had shown him when he had been caught doing something bad and wanted to run away. The staring contest continued for an unusually long time with the younger member the one to break the silence first.

"Excuse me, Sir," He began as politely as he could, "Is there anything you need?"

"Oh, ah, not exactly," The man stumbled over his words, feeling very unsure as of the moment, "You must be Harry, right? Harry Potter?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry replied, trying not to sound awed at the fact this stranger knew him, and by his name too. It was something he had figured out recently as well, after learning 'freak' was something mean Dudley would call him and 'boy' specifically for Petunia's and Vernon's use only.

"Really?" The man stepped closer when he nodded before catching himself, looking very indecisive, "Well Harry, how are you?" From his place behind the door Harry wanted to smile. The man seemed awfully polite, even going as far as to ask how he was doing.

"I'm fine, and you?" The boy returned, "Are you tired? You have been pacing in front of this house for a long time…"

"You saw?" The man suddenly looked flustered, "I guess if I'm being honest I am a little tired." Harry liked the fact he was truthful, because he did look very exhausted.

"Have you been sleeping alright?" He asked in concern with an expression that caused the man's heart to swell.

"My sleeping patterns haven't changed for the past four years," He replied with a sad smile, "You wouldn't know how to get rid of nightmares do you?"

"Nightmares? I have them too," Harry answered, "And wouldn't the best way to get rid of them be to wake up?"

"I guess you're right," The man admitted, "but what if I can't wake up?"

"You don't have to do it all on your own," The child responded, his words reaching a neglected part of the man's heart, "You should have a friend help you like I do."

"And If I have no friends?" He asked, looking incredibly wretched.

"Well, I wouldn't mind being your friend." Harry decided slowly, deciding that this stranger, whoever he was, was a good person. The man did cry a little then. At least, Harry convinced he was crying, even if he couldn't see any tears.

* * *

Remus Lupin introduced himself the second time he saw Harry, embarrassed he had even forgotten in the first place. That boy, just the sight of his deceased friends' child, caused his heart to tremble with uncertain feelings. He was concerned for him, frightened even, because he looked far too thin in Remus' opinion, especially when compared with the whale of a boy that was his cousin. He knew that the Dursleys were well off and that left him to question why Harry had appeared so neglected. They must have had more enough money to spare on some clothes for the boy, but each time Remus visited he was still dressed in the same worn, oversized hand-me-downs. Then again he had learnt not to expect much from the hateful family, not after the lies he had found they told Harry.

Just the thought made him bristle in anger and something deep inside him snarled in response. How dare they slander his parents' death and how dare they lie to him about what he was, labelling him as nothing more than a freak. But one person plagued his thoughts more than anything else. Dumbledore. What had the old wizard being doing all this time? Surely if he had seen the boy's condition in one of his promised, monthly check-ups he would have put a stop to the borderline abusive treatment. He owed Dumbledore many things, but if the wizard had lied about his visits or had simply become senile enough not to notice the smaller that average child…

"Remus? Are you okay?" Wide, familiar, emerald eyes looked up at him from where the boy was studiously weeding the garden. He'd have to hurry if he wanted it done before his relatives returned from their brief trip.

"I'm fine pup," Remus replied affectionately, placing a few pesticide-like charms on the garden bed in hopes to make Harry's job easier in the future. It had been a year since they had first met, littered with moments of tentative bonding and unbelievable truths, and it had taken more than half that time for Harry to believe he was a wizard.

* * *

"Lupin?! What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing here?" Remus' head snapped around. Foolishly he had let his guard fall, so lost in thought he had never noticed the potential enemy approach him.

"Snape," He greeted evenly, attempting to appear calm and in control, "I'm here to see my godson."

"Dumbledore forbade-"

"Dumbledore forbade me from adopting Harry," Remus interrupted Severus' stern disapproval with a quiet snarl, "I know what he said, and he never barred me from seeing Harry, that, was my own cowardice."

"You…" the potions professor trailed off. There wasn't anything he could really say since the mutt hadn't been incorrect.

"So Snape, now we've discussed my reason for being here, what is you're purpose?" Severus couldn't remember a time when Remus had looked so fiercely protective, that, and dangerous whilst still in human form.

"I was sent to check up on him, but I assume he's doing fine," The potions master stated snidely, "Mostly likely spoilt rotten."

"Spoilt?" Remus growled lowly, "You couldn't be farther from the truth."

"Enlighten me why don't you." Severus challenged, "What exactly could be wrong with the poor boy-who-lived." He'd rather not get into this sort of conversation right here and now. It was likely to just leave him with a headache and unpleasant feelings.

"I have visited Harry for two years now Snape," Remus began imploringly, "And before I even begin I want you to try and forget your hatred for the Marauders, your hatred for James and just remember that he is also Lily's son."

"You want me to just forget?" Snape repeated indignantly. And of all people to have asked him...

"Just long enough to hear me out without any bias," The werewolf corrected, "You were friends with Lily before any of us were. You met her before she knew even knew magic existed. Tell me, what was her sister like?" Oh, now that brought back bad memories.

"Petunia? She was quite a nasty little thing as a child. Scornful and envious of the magic Lily had, of the magic she did not possess. Quite mean too. I'd begun to think 'freak' was her new favourite word after she learnt the truth." Snape answered, his voice cold and disdainful ,"What is the point of that question?"

"That is the kind of person, Harry has been forced to live with." Remus answered.

"Aren't you over exaggerating? She's had plenty of years to grow out of her childish immaturity-"

"But what if she didn't?" Remus cut in, "It's more likely that envy, the hatred, grew with her, judging by how Harry's been treated. To make it worse, she's isn't the only one in the household that dislikes…'freaks'." Before Snape could respond, the front doors of number 4 Privet drive opened, and a small miserable looking boy stumbled out. Instantly , Remus was on his feet, rushing to the boy's side, Snape standing behind and forgotten.

"Harry," Remus, called as he crouched in front of the boy, checking for injuries after seeing how dirty the boy was, "Are you alright? Did something happen?" Watery eyes look up at him, the green stained by a red that no doubt came from excessive crying.

"…he died…" the boy choked out, holding back more tears, "You're a wizard, can't you use magic to bring him back?" Remus was startled by the admission. Someone around Harry had passed away? Surely it couldn't be one of his relatives he was shedding tears for.

"No Harry, not even magic is that powerful," Remus spoke softly, his hand gently resting on the boy's cheek, "Death is the final destination. When someone leaves, there's no way to bring them back." He offered a silent comfort, holding the grieving child in his arms. Severus quietly walked up to the duo, placing a hand on Remus' shoulder to catch his attention.

"I think an introduction is in order." He intoned, sweeping back his robes so he could kneel beside him. Snape examined the fragile looking boy that hid tentatively in Remus' protective hold. His eyes, no matter how much he had irritated them through rubbing, were one of the brightest greens he had ever seen, mirroring his mother's. He scoffed at himself for the thought.

"Harry," Remus began slowly, speaking in a reassuring tone, "This is an acquaintance of mine, Severus Snape. And Snape, this is my godson Harry." Remus said the second half merely for formalities sake but made sure to add a warning growl. Severus merely raised a brow at the animalistic sound, not impressed in the slightest.

"Charmed, I assure you," He greeted in a dull voice, his eyes narrowing slightly as the boy held his piercing stare, "I hope for both our sakes, you become nothing like your father…"

* * *

Harry learnt many things from that point on, soaking up the knowledge and facts like a sponge. Remus wondered if it had something to do with the death of his mysterious friend, whilst Severus' could only grudgingly approve. His education was only beginning, but if his scores from the muggle school were anything to go by, he was a bright kid. More than anything though, he was surprisingly insightful and accepting for his age. He knew Remus was a little odd, with his dog-like tendencies and the almost, animalistic feeling he gave off, but at the same time Harry could see no fault with his beloved godfather. In Severus' case, one of the first things he had told the boy, was how much he had detested his father.

That was around the point in time where Harry began to understand human nature. His father wasn't someone he had ever known. Whilst his relatives stated he had died in a drunk driving accident, Remus and Snape had spent a lot of time correcting the fact, making it so he had been murdered trying to protect a just cause. He had never known the man, and he never would. No matter how much Harry had yearned for a father, he had gained something similar, in the form of the two older wizards. And so, whether consciously or not, he took in all the information provided by said older wizards objectively. His biological father, James Potter, had been a great man but also a cruel man and Harry simply accepted that his dad wasn't perfect. No matter how many praises Remus sang, or how much slander Severus provided, James Potter was simply an ordinary man in his mind.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N **Hellllo again.

I'm currently updating this fic whenever I have the time, which is not particularly very often, but I try.

There's also a couple things I guess I should clarify.

Harry is going to be the 'sub' (ie the bottom in the relationship), but he won't be particularly submissive attitude-wise.

Also, the title of this fic "Magis" doesn't stand for mage or magic, though it is a nice coincidence, but for more/excess. I guess it doesn't really make too much sense, seeing as Harry has very little as of right now...but hopefully it does. IF not...it totally means magic etc...

Other than that...oh did I mention he'd be getting a familiar (it's a guilty pleasure for sure), but aside from lovely Hedwig he be getting himself a cute, honest-to-soulbinding-god familiar...

Well, I think I've addressed everything for now... (and Severus is a little less mean here, but remember he has had several years to warm up to our boy wonder)

I just want him to get to Hogwarts already...

* * *

**~Chapter 1 – Emerald Ink and All That Glitters**

Harry winced as he lifted his arm to take the mail. His forearms, underneath his baggy sleeves, were badly bruised, the distinct imprint of a thick hand almost visible. He regretted the fact his relatives no longer feared the 'freak' as much. Vernon having long come to terms with the fact he could get away with hitting Harry, had since started using more forceful language. It was nothing too extreme, at least on most days where his aunt and uncle were merely discontent with his existence, but it was just enough mistreatment to make his life uncomfortable. He had come to question, more and more frequently, what he had done to do such a thing. After all, Remus would shower him with praise at the sight of what his relatives deemed freaky. Harry had enough sense to realise he was losing his place of belonging, or maybe simply coming to terms with the fact such a fantasy never existed.

With an almost inaudible sigh Harry flipped through the pile of bills for anything of interest, perking up as he found a letter addressed to himself. He stared at the emerald ink scrawled onto thick, yellowed envelope, his eyes furrowing ever so slightly.

Mr H. Potter  
The Cupboard under the Stairs  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey

It had no stamp but on the back of the envelope was an odd purple seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H. Harry had his suspicions about the letter and quietly tucked it away before returning to the house. The paper was smooth and felt odd tucked away in his waistband, yet there was an odd warmth to it. Harry had no want to lose such a precious thing so he kept it with him all day, hidden and carefully tucked away from those scornful eyes.

* * *

It was only later that night, when the rest of the house was deep asleep, that Harry risked opening the letter. His eyes squinting as he tried to read it in the dim light of the closet. Inside the envelope were more pages of heavy parchment, immaculately folded and written in the same cursive, green font.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress_

Anyone else probably would have passed of such nonsense as a prank and left it as that, but for Harry, who always eagerly awaited the weekly visits from his god father and sometimes monthly visits from one Severus Snape, the letter was a blessing. Finally, it seemed he would be getting out of the retched place he called a home. The only problem now was explaining such a matter to his relatives.

* * *

The punishment had been worse than he had expected.

In what Harry forced himself to believe was an accident, during all the shouting and shoving, he had fallen down the stairs. He had more than once considered telling his relatives that his quick recovery was not due to his 'freakishness' as they put it, but actually by the outside help of potions and brief first aid, in an attempt to lessen the abuse, but ultimately decided against it. He wouldn't want to cause any trouble for Snape, nor would he risk his uncle truly locking him in the confines of his 'room'. As it was though, Harry was nursing a broken arm and still expected to finish the usual amount of chores, all the while being yelled at to be grateful for yet another thing as they had paid for his hospital bill.

He was also at a loss on how exactly he was meant to send a reply, especially when he didn't have a delivery owl readily available. Lucky it seemed they had a failsafe for ones such as him. Or maybe this was another 'perk' of his renowned status.

* * *

"Foolish child," A familiar, robed man hissed as he stormed into the house, completely bypassing his shocked aunt, "Drink." He held a vial of murky liquid to the boy's lip and Harry obediently downed the concoction. He hardly battered a lash at the taste, sighing in relief when he felt the pain of his bones healing. It took all but a few moments before his once broken arm was once again functional.

"Wha- Who the bloody hell are you!?" Petunia shrieked from the doorway, shock overcoming politeness, "How dare you just barge in here!"

"Who am I?" Severus turned to face her properly, sneering all the while.

"You-!" His aunt seemed to recognize Snape and she raised a finger to point accusingly at him.

"Yes me," the potions master drawled, "Now if you don't mind, I'll be taking Harry with me."

"Of course I mind," She shouted indignantly, "You freaks can't very well just do as you please. Get out! Get out and stay away!" She wanted his kind nowhere near her family. It was bad enough they had the boy to deal with.

"Gladly, so long as you understand I will be taking Harry with me." He stated, eyeing the distasteful woman.

"Where are you taking him?" She asked warily.

"Away," Severus answered, "To his new home, far from here."

"So he will not be returning?" She was slightly excited about the prospects of the boy leaving. God knows how much her family had already done for him.

"No. He will not be returning to this house." Harry felt his heart rise, he had heard nothing about this, assuming he would be returning each holiday.

"Fine then." Petunia sniffed, "Boy, pack your things, you're leaving."

_Things?_ Harry wandered over to his cupboard, almost forgetting Severus' presence if it hadn't been for the sharp intake the older wizard made. It seemed he had never told the older wizard, or Remus for that fact, where exactly he had slept. It was embarrassing among other things. Sympathy was one thing, but showing something as deep as this could only garner unwanted pity.

It was only after searching the tiny cupboard, did Harry truly realize how little he had. He walked back to Severus with nothing in his hands but a simple, worn coat. The older wizard gave him an unrecognizable look but said nothing, instead ushering him outta of the retched home. He seemed to mutter something under his breath and Harry watched in amazement as they went by unnoticed. He was sure people would have reacted to Snape's unusual clothing but it was as if they had been concealed, with not even a single person sparing them a glance.

Could it have been that simple though? Harry could only venture a thought. His depressing days at the house were to end, all at the word of one Severus Snape. Even now he couldn't fully comprehend it but he at least knew it wouldn't be Severus who tried to send him back. No, the man had a resolved look in his eyes, and had always been truthful to him, harshly so.

* * *

"We're here." Severus stopped in front of an untidy little pub that had definitely seen better days. Harry barely managed to glimpse its name on a broken wooden sign before he was hurriedly pushed in. "There's more to see than this place." The wizard muttered quietly, dragging the boy's attention back.

"It's rare to see you out of the castle, Severus," The old barkeep greeted in a friendly manner "Another new student?"

"Yes, it's good to see your doing well, Tom." Despite his conversational response, Harry noted that Snape didn't stop, instead heading straight through the bar, heading for the back wall of dim walled courtyard. Harry watched in amazement as he pulled out a wand and tapped a couple of them in an odd pattern. The wall itself seemed to then separate, the quivering bricks receding until they formed an archway into another world.

The cobbled street, twisted and turned, each full of colourful crowded stores. It bustled with robed people, none of them sparing a glance at the usual occurrence, far too occupied with their own lives. The sounds, smells, sights, all of them were unknown to Harry, and curiously he stepped onto the stony path, never noticing the wall ripple and shut behind him.

"How do you like Diagon Alley?" Severus asked, raising a single brow. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, steering him through the crowd to their first destination.

"It's amazing," Harry said in awe, his voice quiet as he pulled his coat closer. As amazing as it was though, the area was a little suffocating with its amount of strangers. The state of his clothing hadn't helped him either and he hoped to hide himself beside Snape's robes to escape from prying eyes. For the time being Harry kept his head down, watching his feet while his hand held the edge of the potions master's robe. At some point the cobble had turned to steps and they had come through a bronze door of sorts before the steps turned into a smooth white. The second, silver door, led them to a large reception where Harry chose to raise his head.

"Please do try and be polite to the goblins." Severus told him softly as they walked up to a desk. Behind it was a creature the emerald eyes boy had once seen in fictional story books, seated on a high stool and dressed in scarlet and gold. It did a good job of shocking the boy. Remus had definitely showed him that magic existed, and Severus had performed healing miracles on him that were unknown by the muggle world, but now, seeing an entirely different being put him in a slight state of culture shock.

"State your business." The goblin intoned in a gravelly, bored voice.

"I'd like to take out money from Harry Potter's vault and also change the security of it." Snape stated, handing the Goblin a tiny golden key.

"Everything seems to be in order," The goblin nodded and returned the key, "I'll have someone take you down to the vaults and you can discuss the changes you wish to make along the way. Griphook!" Griphook was, unsurprisingly another goblin, who face was ever so slightly less severe than the previous one. Harry could barely make out the difference, yet he wondered if it was the same vice-versa. How did he appear to them? He wanted to know if they saw him as more than a scrawny, unappealing child.

"Follow me." The goblin said, guiding them passed the marbled entryway into a torch-lit stone tunnel. The passageway sloped done slightly before leading to a set of railway tracks. "So what exactly do you wish to change about the security?" He asked harshly, indicating towards a mine cart they were supposedly going to ride.

"Just who has access to the vault." Harry heard the potions master reply as he gingerly climbed in. The metal was cold to the touch, not to mention how deprived of heat the whole area was.

"As of currently, the only ones who have access is the holder of the key, his magical guardian Albus Dumbledore, his godfather Sirius Black and Harry Potter himself." Griphook explained, pulling a lever that sent them hurtling down the mine. Harry lost himself, his fear soon becoming enjoyment. He supposed this was what a rollercoaster would be like.

"I would like it so the only ones allowed access is the key holder and Harry Potter." Severus announced.

"That would require Mr Potter's agreement." The goblin turned to the boy, it had seemed they knew exactly who he was from the moment he had entered the building. Did the goblins share the same thoughts as the wizarding nation in recognizing him, or were they merely observant.

"I agree." Harry replied instantly. He had no idea who Dumbledore was other than the fact the man had left him with the Dursleys and that he would be the headmaster of his new school. Similarly, he had no idea who his apparent godfather was, nor had he a clue what he had been doing this whole time. The goblin grunted with a small nod, pulling out a piece of parchment as the cart slowed.

"Please sign." By the time Harry had read over the cursive script, quill clutched awkwardly in his hand, the cart had braked to a stop. His handwriting wasn't the best, especially considering the unusual piece of stationary, but he made do, roughly scrawling his name onto the yellowed parchment before returning the items back to the goblin. Griphook tucked away the items before stepping out of the cart, leading the duo to an adjacent vault. Harry squinted, in the dim lighting and with his bad eyesight he could barely make out the numbers etched into the wall.

"Vault 687," Griphook announced, "The Potter Family vault." It turned out the vault key had nothing to do with opening the vault itself, much to Harry's confusion. Instead it seemed to be an odd spell of goblin magic that forced the doors open. He tried to remain impassive but a small sound of amazement escaped his throat as he glimpsed his apparent fortune. Mounds of gold, columns of silver, heaps of bronze, dusty old books lined shelves that surrounded the room, odd antiques were splayed around, it was a fanfare of everything rare and valuable, and it was all his. What seemed to catch his eyes though, were the small trinkets lying around the vault. Seemingly useless items laid alongside the fortune, a ragged teddy bear, tarnishes jewelery, broken wands. They were the sort of trinkets that held sentimental value, and with them he felt he could connect with the Potter family, the family he had never really known and would never get a chance to.

"Don't let this get to your head." Severus intoned monotonously bringing him back to reality, "As you aren't of age yet, you cannot completely take over the title Lord Potter, meaning your access to the vault is limited." Harry sent him a curious look, wanting to understand more. The potions master complied with a small smirk, it was good the boy was willing to learn about the more bland parts of the wizarding world such as this. "Once you reach the age of 16 you will be recognized as an adult by the ministry and are then allowed privileges such as complete control of any vaults you are entitled to within Gringotts. Of course this comes with the expectation that you will be able to manage them correctly."

"Please remember though, Mr Potter," The goblin interrupted with a serious look, "If the vaults belonging to you are about to enter a state of unrecoverable decline, it is well within Gringotts jurisdiction to take them off your hands."

"So you'll be the ones taking care of my vault until I'm of age?" Harry asked. They seemed serious enough about their job, so he supposed he could trust them with it, not that he had a choice in the matter.

"I personally will be foreseeing the vaults related to you, Mr Potter," The goblin enlightened, "Please feel free to talk to me if you have any further queries." Harry nodded, more to himself than the creature, it definitely seemed his vault was in good hands judging by the prideful way the goblin held himself.

"So what am I allowed to do right now?" Harry asked, searching the room for anything particularly interesting. Some of the books were in languages he couldn't even being to comprehend, and he itched to flip them open.

"You've been allowed to withdraw galleons and such from an educational fund your parents had set aside for you," Griphook elaborated, waving his hand towards the piles of coins.

"It's seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle." Severus added when he caught the boys inquisitive stare.

"If you wish for anything else, you must come to me and depending on the motive you may or may not be allowed to withdraw items." He withdrew a simple looking pouch and handed it to the boy. "That's a specially made Gringott's purse," Griphook explained, "It has the usual charms casted upon it, courtesy of the bank."

"I advise you take no more than 50 galleons," Snape advised, "Your school materials will cost roughly 20 galleons including your wand, and then the rest you should spend on acquiring appropriate clothing. Whatever you have leftover can be used for an owl and anything else you fancy." Harry found himself agreeing with the man, and took exactly 50 of the golden coins. It didn't even scratch the tip of the fortune he had inherited. He almost laughed when he thought about the Dursleys. They could only dream of a fortune like this.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N **Hello again.

So i'm working on getting to Harry's older years quicker... but there will still be a couple of chapters that I need to write. After this there's probably one more 'before-Hogwarts' chapter. Then I'm going to try and rap up his years in 3ish chapters each (less for some more for others), just until 4th year onwards, where the story will just simply branch off from the canon.

BY THE WAY... the side pairings, are going to be Remus/Sirius and Lucius/Snape (It'll be explained a little later)...and there will be a tiny bit of Fred/Harry/George (but that will end in a pretty solid friendship)...I'm not sure about anything else as of now so we'll just have to go with the flow :D

Until then, please enjoy my interpretation?

* * *

**~Chapter 2 – Encounters**

"Did you bring your letter with you?" Snape asked once they had left the bank, "More importantly did you bring the list of materials you'll need?"

"Yes, it's here." Harry reached into his pocket, pulling out the heavy parchment and handing it over.

"The usual then," the potions master merely glanced over it, confirming his own memory before starting a brisk walk to a certain destination, "First I suggest we take care of your clothing." Harry glanced down at the worn, oversized clothes he wore, before agreeing vehemently. He felt he would be standing out in a bad way, should he keep his current appearance. They stopped in front of 'Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions', though Harry anxiously entered alone as something or better yet, someone nearby, had caught Severus' eyes.

"Hogwarts dear?" a squat, smiling, mauve covered witch asked in a kind tone, "Got the lot here, another young man being fitted up just now, in fact." He nodded nervously and Madam Malkin, he assumed that was the identity of the witch, led him to the back of the shop. There, a boy probably around his age with an ever so slightly larger build, stood atop a footstool, a second witch pinning up the long black robes. Harry couldn't help staring, though he did his best to hide his glance.

"Hello," The boy greeted politely, as he had been taught, turning to face the newcomer, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes, Harry managed with a small nod before being ushered up to a stool of his own. It seemed he wasn't the only one sneaking glances as he caught the boy's unusual grey eyes. They were mesmerising, seeming to turn brighter the longer he stared, melting between stormy grey and molten silver. They seemed to fit perfectly on his, in Harry's opinion, pretty face, and matched well with his pale skin and platinum hair. That left Harry to briefly wonder how he appeared to such a boy, when in comparison, he must've looked a mess.

"Draco Malfoy." The blond seemed as surprised with his own introduction as Harry, but he followed through with his odd impulses and stretch out a hand in greeting.

"Harry." The green eyed boy replied simply, choosing to forgo his surname until specifically asked, grasping the hand that bridged the gap between them. It was a firm hold, but he could tell the boy hadn't worked a hard day in his life by how fine they felt.

"Harry…" Draco tested out the name on his tongue. He didn't know why, but he felt a particularly strong urge to befriend the boy. At first glance he would have ignored the other, but maybe it was the striking emerald of his eyes that caught his attention. "Well," He chose his words surprisingly carefully, "Do you know what house you will be in yet?" Their hands separate after a rather long handshake, and Draco found himself at a slight loss at the confusing emotions he seemed to receive.

"My parents and my godfather have been Gryffindors," Harry began, noting the way his not-quite-friend seemed to frown, "But another…acquaintance is convinced I might be in Ravenclaw or Slytheryin." The blond nodded along with his words.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they?" Draco added, not liking the chances that his first possible friend could be a Gryffindor. His eyes lit up as he seemed to reach a realisation, that must've been what this whole thing was. The prospect of having a friend away from those he had made from his father's meeting. It wouldn't be two heirs awkwardly placed together, but a chance to prove his own socialising skills. "But, I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been." With the apparent mystery solvent the blond spoke more confidently, reverting more to his usual self. Yes, he would show his superior charm and charisma by making a friend before the schooling term had even started.

"It would be nice if we could be sorted together." Harry replied earnestly, stepping off the stool since all his measurements seem to be done. He quickly rattled off the sets of clothing he wanted to the store's owner, watching as she bustled around happily for his order. Draco raised a curious brow, if the boy could afford that much clothing, why was he currently in rags?

"Harry." A curt, and very familiar voice to them both called.

"Severus." Harry greeted happily, and to Draco's surprise, his godfather walked into sight, his parents beside him.

"Mother, Father, Uncle Severus." Draco replied in kind, his manners never faltering, though he was quite curious and confused.

"I see you've already met Draco then," The potions master surmised, noticing with odd emotions, how the boy seemed shuffle a little closer to him, "These are his parent's, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy."

"Charmed," The woman greeted first, while her husband seemed to be busy sizing the boy up, "Are you excited for Hogwarts Harry?"

"Yes." The boy began chatting amicably with the mother and his son, fitting in rather nicely despite his rather shy nature. It was evidently an odd sight for the shop workers to see such a prestigious noble family talking to what appeared to be a nameless urchin.

"I assume his current state is due to this…problem you were telling me about?" Lucius asked quietly, turning to his long-time friend for confirmation.

"Correct," Severus sighed, suddenly looking a few years older, "I'm in desperate need of your help here," He admitted, somewhat unwillingly, "There's still a month left before the school term starts and, in a moment of what I admit to have been rash anger, I have already promised him that he would no longer be returning to that retched house."

"I'll see what I can do," There was no way Lucius was able to deny the man, "It'll be troublesome, very much so, but if I were to go to the Ministry I think I could get you custody of Harry."

"He's worth the trouble," Snape replied with a weary smile, "If anything, I hope I can make up for the horrible years he's had to live. Certainly, no child deserves that." The phrases 'not even Potter's' and 'especially not Lily's' hung in the air unsaid by the potions master, he had long since begun thinking of Harry as just himself. Lucius nodded in agreement, happy with the rare smile he had gotten out of his long-time friend.

"If you're sure…" He pulled out an intricate pocket watch that oozed galleons, "I'll go right away, the sooner the better after all. I trust you'll be able to take care of them." Lucius indicated to his wife and son who were conversing with the boy wonder.

"Of course," Severus replied with conviction, "Lucius, thank you again."

"It's the least I can do." They shared a look that seemed to say something more, but before anyone could begin questioning they parted, Lucius elegantly striding out of the store, mission in hand.

"Narcissa…" Severus quickly relayed the situation back to his wife, not wanting to cause her unnecessary worry, while Draco simply accepted his father's absence, far too preoccupied with his newfound friend.

* * *

"It's strange," Harry offhandedly commented, "I wouldn't have known something as simple as a lily could be used to both put someone to sleep and wake them up…" His hands itched to flick through his newly bought books just to understand more of magic's theory, especially potion making. Unfortunately, his entire list of books and their stock of items from their most recent trip to the apothecary were neatly stored away in an averaged size briefcase. Magic was definitely convenient if nothing else.

"Asphodel," Severus corrected, using the more technical term, "Is just one of many flora that can be used. It does not exhibit any unusual qualities unless used in conjunction with a range of other ingredients and in the presence of magic."

"I see." If magic was indeed the key, it would explain why the muggle world had never discovered some of the most revolutionary cures. It was odd for the wizarding culture to seem so behind in one sense, yet miles ahead in others.

"Harry," Draco called out to get his new friends attention, eagerly pointing to the peculiar shop across the street, "Aren't you excited? We're already at Ollivander's."

"Ollivander's?" Harry echoed, tilting his head in question.

"It's were you and Draco will be getting you first wands, dear." Narcissa explained with a warm smile. A wand, Harry was definitely interested now. He had been so lost in thought he hadn't even notice Draco ushering him in until the light tinkling of a bell brought him back to his senses. It was a small room, one that went beyond cosy, with shelves full of boxes towering over them. It was slight Harry could almost feel a slight hum from all around, he imagined this is what magic would be like.

"I like this place a lot." He decided, noting the absence of furniture sans a single, spindly chair.

"Why thank you." A soft voice replied from behind, making both boys physically jump, though the adults seemed to have expected it.

"Are you Ollivander?" Draco asked frankly, wary of the old man and his pale eyes. They were odd, and he felt as if the man could see right through him. "Sir." He added as an afterthought, seeing his mother about to interrupt.

"Yes, you must be the young Malfoy heir, Draco was it?" He seemed to ask a question he had already known the answer too and quickly moved on, thoroughly examining the blond, "You would be the first to enter my shop with your purpose. Your mother, Narcissa, had her wand made by Gregorovitch and whilst I do not like the man, he makes decent wands. Your father's is and age old wand, older than myself and passed down through the generations, though I assume with your visit the tradition will end."

"You know a lot." Draco noted warily, and a little concerned.

"Worry not, Ollivander's is strict on customer confidentiality," The wand maker waved off the boys worries and grabbed both his hands, releasing the left one after a short moment. "Right handed are we?"

"Yes." Draco confirmed feeling him measure the length of his arm and then, oddly enough, his index finger. Harry watched curiously as the man let go, yet the tape measure simply hovered around the blond, continuing its task.

"Ah yes, this one is easy enough," He stated walking to one of the back shelves, "If it isn't one of these I'll hang myself." It was rather extreme but it showed the man was confident in his assessment. "Try this one." Out of the stack he had brought back he pulled a single wand from its box and handed it to the boy, "Rowan and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Strong and rather stubborn. Why don't you give it a test wave?"

"Like this?" The boy complied, swishing his wrists, yet he didn't feel a change. He was just waving a silly wooden stick.

"Hmm, not quite there," He plucked the stick out of the boys grasp and replaced it with a thinner wand of paler wood, "Elm, phoenix feather. Eight and a bit in length and proud." This time Draco thought it maybe, possibly felt a little bit tingly… "We're getting there." Oliver once again replaced the wand, this time with one that was longer and held a simple beauty.

"It's this one." Draco said immediately before Ollivander had a chance to describe it. It was wonderful and just felt right in his hand, with a slight, happy thrum.

"That would be hawthorn. Ten inches precisely, I was correct in assuming you'd take after your mother. With Unicorn tail hair as a core. It's reasonably plaint and I'm sure will work wonderfully for you." As if to prove his point the wand gave out happy sparks when given a practise swish.

"Are you happy Draco?" His mother asked with a fond smile.

"Yes, very," Draco turned to Harry with a wide smile that the other assumed was rather rare, "It's brilliant Harry, I can't wait till you've found yours."

"Ah yes Harry, I didn't forget about you. Though working with the unfamiliar is fascinating I imagine you will be difficult," He quickly set to work, the tape measure fluttering around him while Ollivander collected box upon box. Unlike Draco's, whose wands were picked from a particular section, Harry seemed to be getting numerous boxes from each. "I forgot to ask which is your dominate hand."

"Right, sir." Harry replied quietly as the even the width of his nose was measured.

"A little shy are you?" The wand maker spoke conversationally, "Just like your mother. Same eyes as well. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it, it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." He seemed to have collected everything and walked back to the small group, the boxes he held looming over his frail form. "And yet here you are with one Severus Snape. Blackthorn and dragon heartstring if I recall. Twelve inches exactly, very faithful though finicky." Severus merely acquiesced with a tilt of his head.

"Do you remember all the wands you've sold?" Harry asked curiously as he was handed his first wand.

"Of course," The wand maker sounded incredulous, as if he had only done what was natural, "Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

"Ok." It felt ordinary to him but his did as asked only to have it snatched away mid wave.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try -" he hadn't even finished describing the wand, the handle just brushing against Harry's fingertips, before Ollivander change his mind swapping it again. "No, no…here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harry tried, if that was what flailing his arm was considered to be. Draco just continued to watch him intently, as if expecting each wand he touched to explode, and Ollivander was a complete mystery. The one saving grace to the awkward repetition was the idea that the wand maker was slowly narrowing down the options….from the thousands of wands in the store. Slowly the pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere… I wonder, now - yes, why not?...It is an unusual combination though." With pride he pulled out the next wand and Harry knew the instant his fingers wrapped around the handle. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Just holding it seemed to respond, sending small waves of warmth up his arm, as if encouraging him, urging him to do something. Harry allowed it, and swung down in an arc, green and gold sparks shooting out of the tip like small fireworks. Harry imagined this is what it would feel like to be reunited with an old friend. It seemed this wand was the one that had chosen him and he was perfectly happy about it.

"Now we can practise magic together!" Draco chattered eagerly.

"So long as you are supervised," Severus added, making sure the children would not be breaking any rules.

"Well, well, well," Ollivander's soft voice rang out clearly, his fingers tapping his chin in thought, "How curious…very curious." He continued to mutter as he packed away both the picked wands for sale, something that unnerved the group.

"What exactly is so fascinating, Ollivander?" Snape asked as the quirky man began to try his patience.

"You see Severus, like I told Harry, I remember every wand I've ever sold," the pale eyed wizard began, "And whilst no two wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are the same, they may share cores from the same beast as unlikely as it is. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in Harry's wand gave one more feather…just one other. It's very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand," He leaned in closer to Harry, gently pushing away the boy's messy fringe, "When its brother gave you this scar."

"No way…." Draco muttered in shock as he seemed to have been shown the true identity of his friend.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes, but great."

* * *

The two boys waited in silence is one of the few open areas in the crowded area. Narcissa was off in their peripherals, chatting with a group of well dressed women, whilst Severus was in the apothecary to their left, leaving both his future students to aimlessly wait, sitting on the edge of a simple stone fountain. Harry had quietly taken out his wand, from where it was nestled in its packaging and simply held it in his hands.

Despite what Ollivander had said, his feelings remained largely unchanged despite the except for a heightened curiosity. Did the fact he had a brother wand to another wizard mean anything in particular? He imagined long ago, when that same wizard had also been a boy, that would have entered Ollivander's shop eager about starting his years at Hogwarts. At some point he had grown up to apparently become a 'maniacal mass murderer' and Harry was concerned. He hoped that wands didn't have any predictive powers as he rather not become like that. That, dark wizard as he was called, had then killed his parents during the wizarding war and Harry wondered what he was supposed to feel there. He was, on one hand, regretful he had loss his chance at a life where he grew up loved by a caring mother and proud father yet he couldn't have been sure that would have been the case. At least, he could be certain his relationship with one Severus Snape would be vastly different. In the end though, his thoughts cycled back to what he thought was the main reason things happened as they did, the First Wizarding War. Murder wasn't uncommon in the muggle world, along with various other crimes, and war had been prevalent in shaping that world, as meager history lessons had taught him. But there was always an overpowering reason for it, whether it be for land or power. The two sides each had their reasoning, after all you wouldn't be able to create an army without at least that much, and therefore he wanted to know what they wanted. What did each side want so badly that there had been death and later war? He couldn't even begin to understand the mind of the two leaders but he desperately wanted to be able to. Whether it be Dumbledore or Voldemort, Harry simply just wanted to know.

Draco meanwhile didn't know how to interrupt his friend's thoughts, politely, while his own were stuck around the fact he was with the Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. It was incredible. He never knew his childhood idol would be someone like Harry. He was expecting someone…bigger, one that held themselves proud and walked with their head up. He already knew how much his friend liked to stare of the cobbled pathway, and his state of dress was something to be worried about. After the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Dumbledore personally announced to the British wizarding nations that their saviour would be held in the safest place imaginable, where he would be treated well. Personally he wasn't very fond of Dumbeldore so assuming the man had lied wasn't hard at all. He had already learned that Harry had lived his life in the muggle world and such a thing was unacceptable. How dare he leave their hero, and his now friend, with the ignorant fools?

"Draco," His father had returned from his business, and walked up to them with Severus by his side, holding a silver birdcage in his free hand. Instantly Draco knew it wasn't for him, after all he already owned an owl and that was excluding those presently belonging to the Malfoy family. "I assume you've finished shopping for you school supplies?"

"Yes, we just got our wands a short while ago." His son replied with barely controlled excitement, his earlier anger washing away as his childlike mind was distracted.

"Good." The older then turned to Harry with a pleasing smile, "Forgive me for not introducing myself properly earlier, but Severus had me running urgent errands. I'm Lucius Malfoy, the head of the esteemed Malfoy family and it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter."

"Oh, no the pleasure is mine," the green eyed boy responded awkwardly, "And please call me Harry, Mr Malfoy."

"Well then Harry, it's only fair for you to use my given name as well then," Lucius was an ever-perfect example of a noble pureblood, his effortless elegance astounding the boy, "Here, this is a small gift from the Malfoy family to you." He gently extended the cage confusing Harry as he looked between the beautiful bird inside and the Malfoy head.

"I-I couldn't possibly." The boy stammered as his eyes widened in surprise.

"Just take it," Snape sighed, throwing a look at his friends, "The Malfoy have plenty of money to toss around so think of it as accepting a bar of chocolate."

"O-ok." Harry gently accepted the owl, marvelling at its pure white feathers and intelligent eyes. He had hardly received any gifts from another before, and something as seemingly expensive as a pet was pushing it.

"It's a female snowy owl," Lucius described, "One of the best Eeylops Emporium has to offer."

"She's gorgeous." Harry praised, and to his amusement the owl seemed to coo in joy. A smile made a way onto the boy's face and it was definitely very charming. In an angelic way, it held a faint innocence yet there was an underlying look in his eyes that spoke of an odd..intensity. Either way it intrigued Draco. He didn't care so much that this boy was Harry Potter, Harry Potter just so happened to be the name of his friend.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N **Hi again c:

I spent an odd while writing this chapter, mostly because I'm still not quite sure what I want to happen and when, but I got through it.

Just as a warning, some characters may not act like 'themselves', whilst since others aren't really specified I was given free reign on how I wanted to portray them.

A big addition to the story as of this chapter will be Harry's familiar (if that's what you could call it). I simply wanted to mimic the relationship between Tom and Nagini, or at least create one.

Aside from that, this chapter is mainly the filler before he enters Hogwarts.

* * *

**~Chapter 3 – Felonious Acts**

"What are you doing in here boy?" A stooping man with limp, oily hair peered over his spectacles at his unexpected guest, "This is no place for a penniless child and I would appreciate if you would get out of my store." The boy shook himself from his confusion, dusting away the remaining traces of floo powder.

"…Would you allow me to stay if I purchased something then?" He replied after a long pause, bringing out his moderately sized money pouch.

"Well of course." The shop owner re-evaluated the boy. He was young but was dressed well, acting as if he were the son of an old pureblood line. "Customers are always welcome, but I wonder if you'll find anything you want." He watched the boy give a slight shrug before venturing into a dustier section of his shop, heading right for the worn, invaluable tomes.

Harry meanwhile, was at a loss, his second visit to Diagon Alley was definitely not as expected. After all, he had mistakenly shouted "Diagonally" whilst entering the fireplace, undoubtedly leading to his entry in the odd antique store. Regardless, he was determined not to fail Severus with the simple task he had been given. His new guardian had asked him to pick up an order from the usual apothecary, but the problem he had now encountered was finding it.

In the unfamiliar space of Borgin and Burkes, Harry did what he thought was best. He mimicked one Draco Malfoy. His new friend had a unique personality, one he had never encountered when at school. No, muggle children were far too noisy and immature. Instead he acted like a proper, pureblood heir...whatever that meant. He stood straighter, masking his expressions with a slightly bored look. Mr Borgin hadn't questioned a thing, instead allowing him free reign within his humble store. And what a store it was.

Unusual, ancient artefacts lined the shelves ominously whilst harmless-looking, cursed jewellery lay behind protective barriers. Glass eyes watched his every move and it was almost as disconcerting as the array of leering masks. The store brought a chill to his bones, and yet, Harry felt that same warm thrum he had in Ollivander's…the hum of magic. It spurred his curiosity and surely enough he found himself flicking through the yellowed pages of dubious books. Compared to the collection within Flourish and Blotts, these books seemed far less…generalised, and more willing to discuss the typically avoided subjects. There were history books that focused, not on the founding of great wizarding schools, but instead the rise and fall of powerful wizards. Books dedicated to merely three or four spells yet spanning hundreds of pages. Harry had found a small oasis of knowledge in a desert of his own ignorance.

He purchased anything of interest, much to the shopkeepers delight. The money he had saved for an owl was no longer needed after Lucius had graciously gifted him Hedwig, so Harry freely spent the galleons. Mr Borgin had even gone to the trouble of shrinking the items down to fit in a hand-sized case. He even gave the boy a few directions when asked, how could he not after making his biggest sale of the month?

* * *

"Out of the way." A brutish wizard said as he all but shoved Harry aside. The green eye boy had quickly realized Knockturn Alley wasn't the most welcoming of places, but that man in particular had been outright rude. Harry watched him with displeasure as he forced his way through the other occupants of the street, noticing a peculiar, tarp covered cage hovering behind in. It stirred an odd feeling in him, to know some poor creature was entrapped within the cramped space.

"It's Gilmore again," A nearby witch uttered to her companion as she idly shuffled through stained tarot cards, "I wonder what poor creature he's captured this time."

"I more curious as to if this one will survive to its sale." They laughed among themselves, disturbing the eavesdropping boy. Even if it wasn't human, he didn't think it right to joke about death. He heard the strangled growl of the unfortunate creature and soon found himself following Gilmore, tailing him and his prize. What he hoped to achieve, Harry didn't know, but the instant the older wizard had left it unattended... he was there, kneeling on the ground as he tried to unlock the barred door.

Gilmore had left the cage tucked away in a narrow alleyway, too small and crowded for an average wizard to fit through, as he entered a neighbouring bar eager to make the sale. Harry was easily small enough to slip in between the rotting crates, but it didn't change the fact that the cage had been tightly secured the old fashioned way, with chains and a padlock. The creature inside was deathly quiet, as if it knew the small hands darting around its prison were there to help, and yet the boy encountered nothing but frustration. How was he to open a lock without a key?

"Where there's a will there must be a way, no?" He had already pulled out his wand, but his lack of magical knowledge had him stumped. He knew, there must have been hundreds of spells appropriate for his current situation, yet he knew nothing. All he wanted was the lock to break, to open, to disappear, anything that would allow the animal freedom. The boy knew what it was like to be locked in a small space and it wasn't pleasant in the least. His frustration built as he helplessly pointed his wand at the lock. It was just a stick, yet he knew it was capable of channelling magic, and if magic was connected to his will like one of his prescribed textbooks had stated, then his will was the answer. Harry earnestly tried. He willed at the lock, he felt the familiar buzz of magic, yet nothing happened. All her received was a glimpse of a swaying, spotted tail.

He felt it, which meant he was capable of producing magic at will, what else did he need? If raw magic could not-

He paused in thought, taking his time and erasing some of his nervous pressure. What exactly did he want to happen? Sure he had pointed his wand at the cage, but what had he wanted to achieve? He was simply throwing magic at it, with no goal in mind other than the creature's freedom. He had just figured that his will was important but maybe he needed to be more specific. There were thousands of spells in existence, all of them performing on simple duty. Harry was sure if he focused his entire being to do one small thing it would happen. Therefore he stopped, aiming his wand at the padlock. He wanted it open. He knew precisely how they worked and had seen plenty around the Dursley's abode. He could visualise it, hear the click of success several times over. Trying to express that exact feeling, he closed his eyes in concentration, feeling the drain as he forced his magic out. He repeated the sequence in his mind at least five times before daring to open his eyes and to his amazement it had worked. His hands were swift at removing the chains, lowering them to the ground gently to avoid attracting attention. The door itself was held back with a simple latch and he was quick to undo it, all but forcing the cold metal door open. He recklessly reached into the cage his hands recognizing to soft feeling of fur as he plucked the creature out, hastily covering it with the loose folds of his robes. It was as large as a grown cat but a bit too light for the concerned boy. Harry could think of nothing else as he hastily made his retreat.

* * *

"I sometimes wonder what goes through your foolish head." Severus sighed heavily as his newest charge returned home, hours late with the added addition of an injured stray. Honestly, he hadn't expected the boy to do something so unexpected; he was nothing but well-behaved and reasonable.

"Sorry." Harry muttered keeping his eyes on the feline in his arms. She, he had discovered, was an exotic beauty that could only have been a product of magic. After all, how else was he supposed to explain the black spots that decorated her yellow fur?

"My house isn't some sort of shelter," the potion master was a strict man, but he wasn't unfair, "This will be the first and last time I allow something like this. Do not make 'saving' strays a habit." He swept out of the room, robes billowing behind him, returning back to his laboratory where he would likely spend the rest of the day. The boy counted himself lucky, knowing that the cat was now wholly his own responsibility. On his way back to his current home he had very quickly come to terms with his actions. Yes he had 'stolen', but he was sure Gilmore hadn't acquired the cat through legal means either. Catching its amber stare the feline let out a soft rumble, its tail wrapping around his arm, and drawing the boy's attention to its bandaged leg.

He knew for a fact he hadn't saved the feline out of justice or pity, but due to something as guileless as empathy. He wondered if it had realised it as well. Shrugging the heavy thoughts away, Harry placed the cat on top of his bed, watching with amusement as it snuggled into the corner. He would have all the time in the world to ponder the oddly intelligent animal, but for now he was sure Draco was waiting for a reply to his previous letter.

* * *

"Harry, over here." Draco waved him over to where he and his parents stood, the loud noises of the nearby locomotive almost drowning out his voice. He found his friends bright green eyes, already noticing differences to his person. It had been a month since they had met in Diagon Alley but they had easily remained in contact with one another through the convenience of owls. The wizarding saviour had gained a lot through the friendly correspondence, one thing being a dash of confidence. His head was held up, eyes darting from the red steam engine to the pureblood family as he tugged his suitcase behind him.

"Harry, what a pleasure it is to see you well," Narcissa greeted with a light hug, "Who's the beauty with you?" She cooed at the feline stretched over his shoulders, absolutely enamoured with its striking look.

"It's good to see you and your family again," Harry gave a happy smile, his hand reaching up to stroke the golden fur, "I'd like you meet Eshe, a stray Severus let me keep." The name rolled of his tongue but Lucius couldn't help but notice the slight hiss to his speech.

"What unique patterning," He remarked offhandedly, giving the boy a firm handshake, "It's very leopard like." He had never seen anything like it, and doubted it was something as simple as a few charms.

"It is," Harry agreed, "But I have no idea what kind of breed she is. I assumed it was a magical variety but other than that I'm not too fussed." The boy spoke easier than in their first meeting. It seemed having Severus as a guardian had done wonders.

"Quickly Harry," Draco urged taking a hold of his friends wrist, "We ought to hurry if we want to find an empty compartment."

"It's nice to see you're excited," His father said as he trailed after them, "But remember to mind your manners, Draco." He wordlessly levitated the boys' luggage onto the train, catching Harry's interest with the show of magic.

"I apologize father." The blond heir toned down his excitement to give his parents a proper goodbye. Harry stood by idly as they went through the formalities. It stirred an odd emotion as he watched the small family, one that he couldn't quite decipher. A light nip to his ear brought his attention back to his companion, it seemed Eshe was trying to reassure him, much like Hedwig would've had the owl not gone ahead with Severus. "Let's go." Draco said as he pulled away from his parents.

* * *

"Have you started reading through our textbooks yet?" Draco asked as he ran his fingers through the silky fur. He was entranced by Harry's cat and eagerly sat beside the boy with the feline stretched over both of their laps.

"I've gone through most of them." The green eyes boy replied, smiling as his partner was spoilt silly. She had shown herself to be very affectionate and acted quite young despite already being the size of a grown adult cat. "Severus helped me with the basics but I still have so many questions."

"Like what?" Draco asked curiously.

"About performing magic." Harry put on a thoughtful look as he tried to explain his thoughts, "For example I want to know if it would be possible for me to do magic without a wand."

"Wandless magic?" the Malfoy heir was mildly surprised, his friend had very high ambitions if he was to attempt such a thing, "It exists if that's what you're asking, but only powerful wizards have managed to pull it off consistently. What's got you thinking?"

"It's just, since I've seen wordless magic, it seems incantations aren't exactly essential," He explained, "I've also seen Severus use some charms without the textbook wand-waving, so that must not be crucial either. I'm just thinking about what the most important thing is, and if wandless magic exists, then it's not necessarily a wand that lets us perform spells."

"I see." Draco was given food for thought, he had never look at magic in the way Harry described. His friend was seriously considering the basis of magic, something no one expected from kids like them. He also fully understood what it would mean for them to discover the most important factor…maybe wandless magic was not so far away after all.

"Excuse me," A knock from the door surprised both of them, Draco quickly relaxing as it slid open to reveal a familiar face, "So this is where you were, Draco." The stranger entered the room, shutting the door behind him quietly and taking a seat across from the pair. His dark, slanted eyes glanced over at the boy sitting opposite. He was small, neatly dressed with messy black hair and a pair of beautiful green eyes hidden behind a pair of simple glasses. Compared to the odd cat, the unfamiliar boy was much more interesting. "It's nice to meet you," he began smoothly, stretching out a friendly hand, "I'm Blaise Zabini, an acquaintance of Draco. Who might you be?"

"Harry…" the boy replied, accepting the handshake whilst wondering why he had introduced himself as and acquaintance and not a friend.

"Harry?" Blaise looked at Draco quizzically, raising a dark brow, "Just Harry?" Both boys gave a half shrug to his added confusion. He didn't think it likely that Draco had become friendly with a muggleborn, in fact he had assumed Harry was some kind of pureblood. Either way, if Draco accepted the boy, who was he to judge?

* * *

Harry would say his life the past month had been nothing but good. Spending his days with Severus, he had quickly made his transition into magical society. His new guardian was not only knowledgeable, but comforting in his own brisk way. While he wasn't one to prepare a warm cup of milk for the insomniac boy, he would go through the effort of producing a very mild sleeping draught. Remus had also visited once or twice, while Harry was settling in, and was always happy to answer any queries the boy had before leaving as suddenly as he appeared.

He was content as of the moment, with how his life had turned and where it seemed to be going, and such a thing showed. Draco, who was sitting beside him noticed the relaxed shoulders and easy smile that flittered on his face whilst entertaining his energetic cat. It made him look oh so innocent, adorable even…his smile truly being something to protect.

The Malfoy heir wasn't the only to entranced though. Harry had captured the attention of everyone who had gathered in their little compartment, from the mysterious Blaise, to snide Pansy and serious Theodore.

"Excuse us," A knock at the door had their heads turning towards a girl with bushy brown hair and a tearful, round-faced boy, "Have any of you seen a toad?"

"I'd say it probably ran away if Longbottom's the owner." Pansy snarked, irking Harry with her attitude. She had been mostly quiet after finding their compartment so Harry had no idea about her personality until now.

"There's no need to be so rude," The unknown girl stated in a somewhat bossy voice, "A simple yes of no would have sufficed."

"And who are you?" The pug-faced girl scrunched up her face further in distaste.

"Hermione Granger-"

"Granger?" of the four kids in the compartment, three of them knew very well how this would likely develop, "That's not a name I've heard before." the two girls stared each other down with Pansy seemingly getting everything she need with the quick exchange, "You're must be a muggleborn, a filthy mudblood." It was an odd skill she had acquired, to quickly be able to discern the blood status of someone she was looking at.

"What?" Hermione had no idea what the other was talking about but it didn't take an idiot to realise she had been insulted, Neville's reaction already confirmed it.

"How dare you?" Longbottom, who had been mostly quiet, was rather angry for such a teary boy, "Take that back."

"Oh shut up, Longbottom," Parkinson waved him off, "It's a wonder you even a pureblood. In fact the both of you are a good match. Throw in a Weasely and it would be perfect, and I right Draco?"

"…" The blond stayed quiet, much to the surprise of both Nott and Zabini. In the usual circumstances he would have met Pansy halfway, throwing his own insults and slurs but now he was oddly silent. In response he eyes glanced over to Harry as he came to some sort of conclusion, "Settle down Pansy," he all but commanded, "There no point in getting so riled up before we've even arrived, and I'm sure your father warned you about using such language."

"!?" The backed down in shock. She had no idea what had overcome him. They may have not been very close but she knew his personality well, he was all but famous for it among the younger generation. What had changed him so much?

* * *

Hogwarts was incredible to Harry's eyes. All of the first years watched the vast castle with varying degrees of anticipation and eagerness, including Harry himself. Once again he could fell it resonating in his blood the closer and closer they got. The castle as amazing as it was seemed to have a sentience of its own as its magic welcomed them warmly. From the spiraling turrets to sparkly windows Harry felt his excitement rise once again.

The boat ride was a pleasant surprise, although it seemed a privilege they would receive only once. On the other hand, Harry supposed he would have found a carriage ride from those odd horses just as enjoyable.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N **What's up readers~

This was the first of many difficult chapters...mainly because I've started changing things around more. (you'll see what I mean)

It's also where I get to dictate Harry's actions and how 'involved' he will be in terms of the usual canon.

But most of all, it's about building a nice stable foundation for his future relationships (read: male harem) hahah...hah...

I really don't know guys...I just write what I write...

* * *

**~Chapter 4 – The Meaning of a Sorting**

"Potter, Harry!" The green eyed boy stepped forward, attempting to block out the loud whispering that trailed after his back. In Hogwart's Great Hall, where the ceiling was enchanted to mimic a starry sky, all eyes had turned to the watch the small figure as he walked his way up to the animated hat. The hungry stare were to be expected, after all, they were to witness a momentous occasion for the wizarding hero.

"Hmm," The rough voice of the hat spoke to him as it was placed atop of his messy hair, completely obscuring his sight with its oversized brim, "Difficult, so very difficult." For its annual duties the Sorting Hat had always enjoyed a challenge. He had felt the trembling of the boys hands and yet he couldn't deny his bravery. Just like how his intelligence and curiosity couldn't be overlooked, neither could the hat ignore the sense of loyalty and hard work. "You are still young, Harry," The hat stated in a wise voice as he glimpsed at the not so happy memories of his past, "Wherever you go, you must make sure to keep your gaze on the future and not linger on that which cannot be changed."

The green eyed boy slumped minutely; he didn't like having a mind-reading hat on his head. There was a lot he would rather keep to himself. Either things he hoped no one would find out, or those that haunted him.

"I will not reveal anything I have learned, it is against my being to do so," the hat reassured, "Now tell me... where do you think you belong?"

Harry was stumped, having not thought about it all. He had simply sat down prepared to go wherever he was sent and it seemed he would be getting a choice, a rather rare occurrence. He wouldn't even know where to begin...

"Your bravery suggests Gryffindor, but on the same note your wit and search of knowledge would lead you to Ravenclaw," The speaking artifact continued, "You have so many of the traits Hufflepuff value, willingness to work, dedication and loyalty. And yet you could become great, if you simply chose Slytherin."

Become great? That single, familiar phrase echoed in the boy's mind. Ollivander had said similar things and it had intrigued him, more out of curiosity than actually ambition. After all, he wondered how many people had said those things about the wizard who became Voldemort.

"Very brave indeed," The hat chuckled to itself but had seemingly reached his decision in concensus with the boy's mind, "In the end, I think you will most likely find what you seek in, SLYTHERIN!"

The entire hall was silent as the boy removed the hat. Even the professors seemed mildly shocked with the exception of one Severus Snape. He awkwardly walked his way to the Slytherin table, knowing the gawkers had still not dropped their stares, and sat down beside Draco who was giving him a rare, genuine smile. The Malfoy carefully moved the cat he had been safekeeping from his lap, returning it to his owner who seemed to calm down just by holding it.

"I knew you would be a Slytherin." The platinum blond commented, and with his words it was if a spell was lifted in the Great Hall. A slow applause began from the older Slytherins, the teachers soon catching on with other houses adding their polite contributions. Harry took the time to record their reactions as most of them didn't look pleased in the least, he hadn't known a sorting would be so troublesome or meaningful.

* * *

The Slytherin Dungeon was something Harry was completely enamoured by. He spent his first few minute merely staring out the dark windows that showed the greenish waters of Black Lake, before finally carrying himself and Eshe to their rooms. For the first years it was four to a room but the odd number of boys meant Harry would only have two roommates. Maybe it was more accurate to say only two others from his year level we're prepared to share a room with him. It seemed most others were keeping a respectful distance, still trying to assess the Boy-Who-Lived before they decided how they would act.

Draco's presence was a given, but he hadn't expected Blaise to tag along, not that he minded. Instead he was rather happy to be rooming with the level-headed Italian who had yet to be anything but friendly.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Malfoy asked with a bit of concern, "You look a bit pale."

"Really?" The green eyed boy was slightly confused though he was feeling a bit tired. He ran his fingers through the fur of the dozing feline adoringly, wondering it watching Eshe was making him sleepy.

"You should get some rest," Blaise advised as he added his collection of books to their shared shelf, "Draco and I will be sure to wake you if anything important happens." His reassuring words were all it took for the day's excitement to wear off. Soon enough the boy wonder was found drifting off to sleep, curled up on top of the covers with his oddly coloured cat.

* * *

Their first week had passed easily and yet Harry doubted the staring was going to stop anytime soon. He didn't know how many times he had been asked to show his famous scar and his classmates were beginning to doubt his identity with his constant refusals. Already the rumours had started, originating from their rival house, and none of them were particularly pleasant. Half of them labelled him a fraud while the others said he was dark. He knew it was used as an insult, but he didn't believe it was worse than the other things he heard. In particular someone in the Gryfinndor's had labelled him traitor to the light, was that where he was currently aligned?

The whole school was wary of him, and simply because he had been placed in Slytherin. It was unfair, especially since his own house had been rather distant. He had but three people to rely on within the school, Draco, Snape and Blaise... And in a castle with one hundred and forty-two staircases and an uncountable number rooms, it was a little lonely.

His personal problems aside though, Harry thoroughly enjoyed his classes, soaking in as much knowledge as he could while his quill scribbled furiously. There was a lot more arithmetic and theory to magic then he had first assumed, as well as a lot of remembering to be done. Whilst he wasn't too fascinated by naming constellations and following planet movements he did what was asked. Similarly he invested a lot of time into learning about the different flora in their Herbology class, if only to correlate it to Potions, a more enjoyable session. The single class he struggled with had been History of Magic, and he sure it was a problem with the teacher's ability to lull his students to sleep. He used his time more productively, reading odd books from the school library while his classmates napped.

It was in his more practical classes that the boy really shone though. Charms, while textbook heavy, was something Harry could spend hours studying, whilst Transfiguration seemed to have underlying complexity yet it came easily to him.

He had been thrown in the deep end coming from a muggle background, but he was earnestly trying to catch up with his classmates. To Harry it didn't matter if he surpassed them in studies if he couldn't grasp the culture.

* * *

"Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey." Draco fretted as his friend all but stumbled out of their Defence Against the Dark Arts class. He truly thought their professor was a complete waste of time, but for now it seemed there were more important things to attend to.

"I'm fine." Harry clutched at his forehead as the burning sensation faded away. He had no idea what was causing the sudden pain but was sure it was centred around his scar.

"It might be from your lack of sleep." Blaise guessed with a light shrug. After their first few nights he and Draco had come to realise many things about the boy wonder. Their green eyed friend was a mild insomniac, and when he did manage to sleep he had terrible nightmares. They had no idea it what from, and with Snape trying to avoid a potion dependency, the only thing they could do was offer was meager support.

"I'm fine…" There was a slight slur to his words as the nights spent awake caught up to him. Draco shook his head and motioned for the other boy to help him as they all but carried their roommate back to their room. Classes were over for the day and at this point sleep was far more important than food for Harry.

"Come on, Harry," Draco shrugged the boy of his shoulder where he fell heavily on the bed, startling the dozing cat, "Sorry Eshe, your master will be taking over this bed." It was odd how quickly the cat seemed to understand, quietly stalking out of the room to find her own dinner as she often did.

"What now?" Blaise asked, covering the drowsy boy in blankets.

"We should probably tell Severus," Draco decided, "Potion dependency aside, this can't be healthy." With his mind made up he was prepared to leave only to be stopped by a surprisingly strong grip, "You need to sleep Harry." The blonde ordered with a frown. It was a bit pitiful to see their 'saviour' in this state…if only his enemies could see him now.

"…Don't wanna…" They would have considered it cute if it weren't for the wave of pressure they felt. It was both hot and cold, more than enough to make their knees shake as their hands began to sweat. The two Slytherins exchanged looks before returning their gazed to the culprit. His eyes, while unfocused seemed to glow with uncontrolled power, the sort that made the boys shiver in ways they didn't understand.

* * *

Harry woke refreshed, feeling better than he had in days, and ready to start the day. When he attempted to move though, he felt himself somewhat obstructed as if he were being retrained. Opening his eyes slowly he came face to face with a sleeping Draco that piked his confusion.

"Morning," Blaise greeted as he returned from his early daily shower, rummaging through the drawer for his robes, "How are you feeling?"

"Good," Harry answered earnestly, "Though, why exactly are me and Draco in the same bed?"

"You don't remember?" the young Italian looked at him incredulously, the intensity in his eyes enough to make Harry turn away.

"I don't recall anything after DADA. What happened?"

"You collapsed so we took you back to the dorm," Draco moved slightly, disturbed by their talk, burying himself into the warm duvet, "We left you on the bed to get some sleep but you wouldn't let either of us go so we all ended up spending the night in that cramped bed." Blaise reached up and massaged his neck. A single bed was cosy for two, but three people was a bit much.

"Wouldn't let you go?" Harry merely received a shrug in response.

"But maybe we should make this a habit," Blaise gestured over to the sleeping Malfoy and Harry, "It doesn't seem like you get nightmares if you aren't alone."

"I wouldn't want to be a bother." He was embarrassed. To have to sleep beside someone to cure his night terrors seemed weak, and very childish.

"If it is the only thing to do to help then both Draco and I will help you until you overcome your fears," The Slytherin stated with contrasting chivalry, "After all we are your friends."

* * *

"Up." The broom rose quickly, hitting his hand with a solid thud. If there was something Harry could appreciate about the wizarding world besides the obvious magic, it would flying. He had instantly fallen in love with the sense of freedom that came with being in the sky, most of his worried left behind on the earth. From his current perch his classmates looked so small, especially the ones still receiving instructions from Madam Hooch. He flew with the ease of an avian despite having only picked up a broom last Thursday, and his talents were not to go unnoticed. Both Snape and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch team captain, had heard of his aptitude and whilst it was against traditions for first years to be put on teams, the moment Harry entered second year they would eagerly take him onto the team.

"Hey, Potter!" a loud voice shouted at him, from where a classmate was climbing up to the green eyed boy's perch. Harry didn't recognize anything about him other than the fact he was a Gryffindor.

"?" Harry didn't know what exactly to say so he remained quiet while the lanky redhead balanced himself. It wasn't long before a tense silence stretched out between the two, neither knowing what they should say to the other.

"…Are you really Harry Potter?" The stranger blurted out awkwardly, scrunching up his face as he scrutinized the scrawny boy, "Apparently no one other than some Slytherins have seen the scar."

"It's a bit much for everyone to want to see it every five minutes," Harry explained slowly, not liking how the Gryffindor had pronounced his house name, "Why do I even need to show them something like that? I don't care if they don't think I'm not the boy who lived, at least I'm left alone."

"..huh," The boy was given food for thought, "You don't seem like you're evil…so why did you get placed in Slytherin?"

"Are you saying Slytherin houses only evil wizards and witches?" Harry couldn't comprehend how a hat was meant to comprehend if a child was evil. Being mean definitely wasn't the critical point as he had often seen some Ravenclaws bullying the meeker Hufflepuffs.

"Well, of course," The redhead looked at him as if he were an idiot, "Only evil gits get placed in slimy Slytherin, like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and Malfoy." It was as he had forgotten that the person he was speaking to wasn't a Slytherin himself, and Harry took great offence at his words.

"Voldemort aside," He vindictively enjoyed watching the boy flinch in fear at the name, almost toppling off his broom, "Malfoy is a friend of mine and I would appreciate if you didn't insult him."

"Friend?" the boy was incredulous, "How could you like someone like him? He just throws around money and his daddy's name, thinking he's the best in the world."

"You may want to stop you presumptions there," Harry was begin to dislike the noisy Gryffindor, it was obvious his grudge went beyond that of their house 'rivalry', "I would much rather prefer Slytherin over Gryffindor if everyone acts like you." He didn't want to antagonize the redhead further but nor did he want to stay and listen to the slander so Harry simply let himself fall. Considering how high he had been Harry thought it would be more efficient to drop than to descend. His actions garnered gasps and a small scream from those that noticed, Madam Hooch already racing over to 'catch' him. He pulled up from the nose dive as if it were the easiest thing in the world and simply hopped off his brown with a bright, award-winning smile.

* * *

By the time Hallowe'en rolled up Harry could say he was beginning to warm up to his Hogwarts life. He no longer suffered sleep deprivation, often sharing Draco's bed or sometimes Blaise's. Despite how awkward it had been in the beginning for the young boys, they had quickly become comfortable enough with one another to no longer mind. In fact having another body was rather useful for keeping warm in the chilly dungeons.

Academically, he received top marks, devoting an unusual amount of his free time to studying magic. He was never one for chess or the likes, instead opting to sit down with a nice read, textbook or not. Socially, he could say the Slytherins were… better. Most had made up their minds on what they thought of him, either choosing to be friendly or to completely ignore him. Either way it was much better than their stifling indecisiveness.

He had learnt about who he should avoid, which seemed to be most of the younger students of Gryffindor, and who would hold a civil conversation with him. If they could spare the time, the older students were very informative and most of them willing to answer his questions. It also helped that they were not overcome by his 'fame', or prejudiced on his house. Personally he enjoyed the company of the Ravenclaws who often frequented the library and lent him texts.

"Here girl." He fed Hedwig a bit of meat from his meal as she cooed happily, her simple task of delivering a letter done with ease.

"You'd better eat some of that yourself," Blaise commented with a furrowed brow. He understood that he was a tad tall for his age but Harry, whilst only a bit shorter than Draco, was too thin for his liking.

"I am." Harry chewed a tiny bit louder to prove himself as Hedwig flew off with the flock of other owls.

"It's not about the volume so much, but amount." Draco said noting the small amount of food on the boy's plate. He was quick to rectify it adding another, proper serving of roast with a slice of the treacle tart his friend seemed to enjoy. Harry frowned but was a little happy that they seemed to care. Opting to save the treat for last he had only just picked up his knife when their DADA professor came sprinting into the hall, his face pale with terror as he wheezed towards Dumbledore.

"Troll-…in the dungeons," Quirrell gasped slumping against a nearby table, "Thought you'd ought to know." With his finals words he fell to the floor in a dead faint, the dull thud echoing in the now silent hall.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N** S'up

This chapter took a while and the next might take longer yet, but I'm happy enough and hope as readers you are patient enough for my procrastinating ways.

Uh, i kinda breezed through things, but I'm trying to get into the later years as quickly as I can, while still establishing my plot.

As of now things aren't too different and the creature part of this fic won't appear until the end of his second year.

Here's chapter 5, (and a question to think about, who is the man in the mirror)

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Is it the Heart's Reflection?**

She knew wasn't the prettiest girl, but Hermione Granger was a child who prided her brain over other aspects anyway. Though, to say she didn't care about her appearance would be a lie, in fact she was very self-conscious about her unmanageable hair and slightly larger front teeth. She strongly believed that everyone was given one or two things that they excelled at, at the expense of a couple other points, so she was happy enough to trade looks for smarts. With such a mindset it was hard to understand those seemingly perfect people, for example, the wizarding saviour Harry Potter.

Neither of them had the greatest knowledge of the wizarding world yet they were both considered the smartest among the first years, much to the Ravenclaw's shame. He was the one who managed to turn his match into a needle first, the one whose book floated into the air only ten minutes into Charms class, the one who flew on a broom as if he had been doing it all his life, and the only first year to know spells far above their level.

He had completely fascinated Hermione even without his 'heroic' acts. No, she didn't follow him because he had saved her from the troll that had mysteriously breached Hogwart's walls, but instead because he was worth it. He had been kinder to her than any of her housemates, and that was only through a single interaction. He was willing to study with her, discuss with her the differences between wizards and muggles and even listen to her more trivial worries. As far as she knew, Harry Potter was someone deserving of a lot of things, many he couldn't have, and she would have been happy enough to try and get them for him…as a friend.

* * *

"Eshe, careful there," Harry warned as the eager cat pawed at one of his small stone statues. It had become a bit of a hobby for him to transfigure small pebbles into the likeness of magical creatures.

"She still acts like a kitten," Blaise commented picking up a newer piece, "How long did this one take?"

"About a week," He looked over to a simple creature encyclopaedia where a bookmark hung out from the C section, "I tried following the pictures but it's a lot harder without seeing the real thing." He lifted up a miniature Eshe and compared it with the three headed dog, making it obvious which was superior.

"I heard a rumour that a couple Gryffindor's stumbled across one within the school," The Italian gossiped, "Apparently it was in the corridor Dumbledore forbade entry to."

"Really?" Their last dorm mate entered the room, his hair still slightly damp from his shower, "Who was it?"

"The Weasely twins," Blaise replied with a light smile, "Though knowing them it could have simply been a lie."

"It doesn't concern us anyway," The blonde shrugged the rumour off and sat down next to Harry, pulling the exotic cat into his lap and happily running his fingers through the gorgeous fur, "Will you be okay for Christmas, Harry?" It was slightly worrying that the Slytherin dungeons would be pretty much empty on the holidays, since most of the students would return to their pureblood family, Draco and Blaise being no exception.

"Snape and Eshe will be here, and it's only a couple of weeks," He gave a serene smile that did absolutely nothing to lessen his friends worries, "I'll probably be studying anyway."

"Potter," A knock at their door interrupted any replies as Theodore Nott popped his head into their room, "That Gryffindor girl is here to see you again." He left quickly after delivering the message, being the recluse student he was.

* * *

Harry had definitely underestimated how quiet the holidays would be. The Slytherin dorms were completely empty, with the exception of himself and the ghostly visits of the Bloody Baron. He had woken up on Christmas day to the soft, insistent taps of Eshe's paws as she mewled for attention, and surprisingly, as small pile of presents on the ground below him. With her master awake Hedwig also hooted a hello, her pure white feathers watching with the season.

"Did you finish all your jobs, girl?" Harry asked, giving her a well-deserved pat with the responding coo. He had given her quite a task of delivering his gifts to his friends and yet she had managed it all in time. Meanwhile, while his two pets lazed around, he assessed the gifts he had received. Aside from Remus and Snape, this was the first time he had given and received presents from his friends, and he was curious. Draco's gift, which was actually a present from the Malfoy family, was wrapped in flawless white paper, tied with a silver trimmed red ribbon, and stood out all too much among the others. Unwrapped they had gotten him a couple of expensive looking books and a charmed leather collar for Eshe, undoubtedly chosen by the Malfoy matriarch for its chic looks. Searching for more possible books Harry chose the present covered in blue starry paper and small reindeer. It was very muggle and rightly so as he realized it was Hermione, who had sent him a range of muggle books, some of fantasy creatures and other on muggle studies.

"What else have you received, Harry?" A curious voice asked as a ghostly figured floated through the wall and into the room, his clothes covered in the characteristic blood. The Baron definitely enjoyed the little Slytherin's company and wit, and it was part of his duty, he thought, to make sure the boy was not lonely during the festive season. "Those books take me back…" Those cunning Malfoy had sent the boy wonder copies of the higher classes spell books, most of them speaking of old and forgotten magic.

"A lot of books so far, Baron," Harry replied with a smile, "They'll keep my mind occupied until everyone returns to Hogwarts and classes resume." He spotted a simple, parchment wrapped gift, and picked it up eagerly, seeing the signature signs of his godfather on it. He unwrapped a simple scarf, not unlike the Slytherin one he and his dorm mates, with the exception of its solid black colour, and softer, warmer feel. It was lovely, and he quickly wrapped it around his neck, noting that it was far longer than he imagined. What remained were two smaller boxes and another light package. Much like Remus, Snape also tended to fall into certain habits at this time of year. As always his gifts were always hand sized, wrapped in dark coloured paper, with cursive font written on the side in place of a card. Harry pulled off the paper and reached into the small box, pulling out a vial of golden liquid.

"Well if it isn't Felix Felicis," The baron marveled and swearing the boy's hidden questions, "It's been a while since I've seen one with such a brilliant colour."

"He went all out this year." Harry uttered as he recalled that this particular potion was not only difficult but required six months of brewing.

"Indeed." The baron looked at the two remaining gifts, one of the looking particularly familiar to him, though what that meant he didn't know. "I recommend that one," He pointed to the second small box covered in dark red paper, "It looks to be from your other friend."

"Blaise then." Harry read the little note tied to the side, his expressing changing to that of realisation as he looked between the neat writing and pricey-looking piece of jewellery. It was a bit odd at first, but the silver band promising a 'calm and clear' mind, fit snugly on his wrist. Harry glanced at the last remaining gift suspiciously. "I don't know anyone else that would think to gift me…"

"That paper looks familiar," the Baron mused, "It is probably harmless, maybe it is from someone within the school?" his face quickly changed from thoughtful to sheer amazement as a silvery cloth pooled onto the floor.

* * *

The green eyed boy walked to dinner with the Bloody Baron's words fluttering in his head and his pampered cat draped around his shoulders, snuggling into the oh-so soft, black scarf. Someone had returned his father's invisibility cloak to him, and whilst he was curious as to whom, he was thinking more about how sure a rare item could be used. It was one of a kind, so in all honesty, he wanted it stored in Gringotts, safely protected by the goblins. With those thoughts he entered the Great Hall ad was struck by surprise. All other days he had sat alone at the Slytherin table during dinner but it seemed for Christmas Dumbledore wanted something special, the four student tables replaced with a single centred one. Awkwardly, he was forced to choose his seat, and simply chose one away from others. Of course whilst he wanted to be left alone, it seemed for some students, that this would be the ideal time to greet the wizarding hero, whilst his intimidating housemates were away.

"Welcome, Harry," Two identical redheads greeted happily, the only difference being the letter on their hand knitted sweaters, "Welcome to the Gryffindor Table!"

"…Ah," He quickly calmed down Eshe who seemed irritated at the loud teens, all the while wondering how exactly they had claimed the shared table for their house.

"It's simple, you see…" The one with the 'G' on his sweater stated.

"Since, most of the students at this table are Gryffindor…" His brother continued.

"We figured majority rules, and therefore this is our house table!" Their reasoning was odd but seemed perfectly fine with them.

"I see." Harry answered slowly, his eyes darting up to Severus who seemed all too preoccupied with the overly friendly headmaster.

"It's a pleasure to meet the rumoured hero, so allow us to introduce ourselves." They spoke in synch and Harry wondered if that was common in twins, or if it was particular to the boisterous redheads.

"I'm Gred and this my brother Forge." The twins announced cheekily.

"Do it properly, would you?!" Another redhead shouted from further down the table. Harry recognized him as the Gryffindor prefect, and the boy stuffing his face beside him as Ron Weasely.

"Percy's no fun," 'Forge' stated, poking the 'F' on his jumper, "I'm Fred and this is my brother George," He repeated the early phrase, making the needed corrections, "Our little brother has been telling us a lot about you…"

"And we're curious to know if it's true." The feast was well underway, and the first thing Harry noticed was their differing taste. It seemed even though they made his mind whirl with their manner of speaking, they couldn't deny the difference between something as simple as taste.

"What has he been saying?" He chose a particularly bloody piece of steak and put it on his plate, watching as Eshe eagerly hopped onto the table before sinking her sharp teeth into her meal.

"The usual," George simplified, "For one he doesn't believe you're in Slytherin, or in other cases, that you must not be the real Harry Potter." If that was all, then it really was the usual nonsense, floating around his classmates' minds.

"So?" Green eyes turned on them with an emotion they could only see as boredom, and for the twins…it was against everything they sought as pranksters, "What exactly do you want me to say?"

"When you put it that way," George pondered over it for a while before giving his smart reply, "If you could declare us the greatest wizards since Merlin, in front of the wizarding public and more importantly some reporter-"

"No, no," His brother interrupted, "I would much rather you told our mother that being prefect isn't all that amazing, then maybe should would stop harping on about how perfect Percy is and lay off trying to change the family miscreants." Harry couldn't help himself and a small laugh escaped his lips. Their mannerisms were purposely silly whilst their words held a sarcastic humour. In fact, when put that way, it made him wonder if the reporters would eat up everything and anything he said.

"If I ever see her, I'll do just that." He promised easily.

"Oh, in that case how bout visiting the Burrow next Holidays…"

"The sooner the better."

* * *

Again and again, Harry found himself under that silver cloak and stalking through the dark hallways after his accidental discovery. His newfound invisibility had changed its purpose from allowing him access to restricted parts of the library, to stealthy sneaking him into one of Hogwart's many forgotten rooms. There, standing against the furthermost wall, reaching almost up to the ceiling, was a crystal clear, ornate mirror. He had all but memorized the odd inscription carved on its golden frame, but what mattered most to him was what it showed. Like the other times he stepped before it to see nothing, much like how an ordinary mirror would respond to his cloaked form, but oddly an unknown man stepped into the frame and into his view.

"Good evening." Harry whispered, and whilst he may have felt silly, the man gave a nod of acknowledgement. The boy still didn't understand the purpose of the mirror and had no idea if the man was real or not, but there was something entrancing about him that kept his green eyes fixed to the glass. The man was tall and looked perfectly healthy if not tired. His black robes looked of a fine quality and his clothes led Harry to believe he was some sort of well-off pureblood. At first Harry had wondered if it was a mirror that showed your future but it made no sense after further deliberation. For one, whilst they had similar traits, the man a unique air about him. He was very handsome, Harry admitted, with pale skin, jet black hair, and a truly enviable face, but it was his eyes that took his breath away. The enchanting ruby was unnatural, yet suited him fine. They captivated and held him with mysterious force, forcing Harry to quickly learn to avoid the gaze.

But the strange man, as alluring as he was, was not the sole reason of Harry return, night after night. The boy waited patiently, and he quickly caught sight of a moving scaled body, tonight coiled around the man's wrist. The head poked out of the man's robed sleeve and a small tongue flicked out as the snake looked to Harry in recognition. Likewise, the boy could never forget the dark zigzag pattern on his friends otherwise pale back. He had his suspicions on what exactly the mirror showed but they seemed to contradict each other one way or another. His biggest query lied in why exactly the man always showed up. He had never seen the like of him before, and surely would've remembered such a meeting, and yet unless he as a completely independent…entity, he assumed he was supposed to mean something to him.

"Back again are we, Harry?" The boy felt his insides turn to ice as he turned his head to address the wise voice. There, standing by the doorway, was none other than Albus Dumbledore, their school headmaster and a man he had heard many, many things about…

"I'm sorry." He quickly blurted out, the cloak slipping off his head as he quickly ducked down, mortified at being caught out after curfew.

"It's quite alright," Dumbledore soothed, "After all your school life would be a little boring if you didn't explore a little bit." He seemed kind enough, but that alone made Harry wary. After all, he had no reason to trust this man as no matter how famous he was, he was a stranger. "I expect by now you must have some idea of what this particular mirror shows."

"Not quite." Harry answered with a shrug.

"Hundreds before you have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised, and many of them, if given the chance would go mad before it." Dumbledore explained, "Here's an example, the happiest man in the world would merely see himself exactly as he is."

"Then does it show what would make one happy?" the boy questioned, "Like, a person or item that would give happiness to a particular person?"

"Not quite but very close," The headmaster chuckled, not expecting that kind of response, "It shows nothing more, and nothing less, than the deepest, most desperate desires of our heart. So Harry, what exactly do you see?"

"…" The green eyed boy watched the man carefully, revealing his reflection could mean a lot of things, "I see an old friend. They're healthy, smiling, and even though I can't hear them, they're talking to me." Indeed, in the reflection the man and the snake were having a merry little conversation with each other. Although he now knew the oddities of the mirror the man's presence confused him even further. He seemed to laugh at something the snake said and brought his wand to tap the silly thing on the head. The instant he saw the pale wooden stick Harry came to an epiphany, or at least another hypothesis.

"Maybe you will be able to see them next time you enter the muggle world." Dumbledore suggested, trying to understand the enigma that was Harry Potter.

"That would be impossible sir," The boy took on a somber look that Albus recognized all too well.

"Well, I feel I must inform you that the mirror is to be moved to a new home tonight," The old wizard announced, "I advise you don't go looking for it again Harry, after all it does no good to dwell on dreams and forget to live. Now why don't you get that admirable cloak back on and head back to bed?"

"Yes sir," Harry prepared to leave wondering if it was a simple task to see through invisibility, but stopped as he pondered a stray thought, "If I may ask, what exactly do you see Professor?"

"Me? I see myself holding a new pair of thick, woolen socks," The old man smiled but his eyes look incredibly weary in a way that couldn't be cured by sleep, "One can never have enough socks." Harry knew for certain the man had lied, and such a thing didn't sit particularly well with him. When asked he might not have said the entire truth but at least he did not fabricate nonsense. From this, he found he did not particularly like his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. The wizard had far too many secrets Harry did not care for, and had an unexpectedly hard gaze behind his twinkling eyes.


End file.
